Scattering Embers
by Agent Author
Summary: Ember, the spirit of fire, is 634 years old. So it doesn't make sense that the Guardians are just now introducing themselves to her. Jack and Ember naturally clash, but soon the icy and fiery attitudes transform into affection. But right under their noses, the Bogeyman is making a comeback, and he wants revenge on the Guardian of Fun. Jack/OC
1. Late Bloomer

**Hello, readers! Thanks for deciding to read this story! I'm Agent Author, and I'd like to present to you a disclaimer.**

**Disclaimer: I've never heard of a fourteen-year-old owning a Dreamworks production. I doubt that's even legal. I do not own Rise of the Guardians, only my OC, Ember. I also own those related to her past.**

**...**

She laid under a heap of burnt wood, fragments of a broken stained glass window meters away from her head. Fear scampered over her body as she weakly pushed the scorched wood away. The air was clouded with grey dust. She inhaled, resulting in a harsh cough that erupted from the deep pit in her chest. She attempted to stand up, but her knees buckled under her own weight. She felt like a small fawn, tripping over herself. Her knees and hands shook as she frantically scrutinized her surroundings, searching for anything or anyone who could help her. She had no idea who she was or what she was doing.

Choking on smoke and fearful tears, she sat back on her legs and looked up to the sky. Something large and bright began to clear the smoldering dust away. Its outline soon became more defined as a circle. As its brightness seeped through the smoke, tranquility passed over the previously frightened girl. Her breathing, no longer intoxicated with dust, slowed to healthy rate.

_Ember._

A single word trespassed into her mind. There almost was no voice to it, only a blank word with a filling sensation accompanying it. _Ember? _the girl thought, _Is that my name?_ She looked up to the moon above for confirmation. Despite its lack of motion, she felt that it nodded to her before encouraging her to stand again.

Instead of falling, this time Ember rose with steadiness, never tearing her eyes away from the moon. Its light seemed to embrace her, comforting her, saying she was safe and that nothing was going to happen. The corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly as her eyes sparked with happiness.

The irises of her eyes were concretely a grey that resembled smoke, like the ash and dust that hung in the air. She looked down at her dress, which was almost all black, save for the ends, which had intricate designs of flames that shimmered under the soft moonbeam rays. She ran her hand over the waist of the dress, admiring it, and noticed that her skin was a dark shade of brown. Wavy strands of jet black hair tumbled down her shoulders and back.

Ember looked to the moon, again. "Why am I here?" She asked. Silence surrounded her. "Hello? I need to know what I am doing here!" The moon said nothing.

Mere inches away, an iron handle protruded from a pile of ash. Ember was somehow drawn to it. She approached the ash pile tentatively, as if it would lash out at her if she came too close. Her fingers soon found themselves wrapped around the strange handle, and she drew the rest of the iron tool from the grey ash.

She felt like young King Arthur, the legend who pulled the Excalibur from the stone. The iron, now revealing itself as a fireplace poker, felt so natural in her hands. She waved it at the air, testing its weight in her hand. To her surprise, a trail of ghostly fire was left behind by the tip of the poker, which seemed to have ignited without a flame. She waved it again, and another trail of the stringy flame covered the aerial tracks of the poker before fading.

Marveling at this, Ember wondered if she was harnessing these pyrotechnical powers and was merely channeling them through the poker. She opened her left hand, outstretching her fingers, and a small patch of fire arose from her palm. She was so startled that she didn't even think of trying to swat the luminescent sphere away. It wasn't painful. Her skin didn't burn, and no mark of red appeared upon her palm. It was tepid in her hand, like water that was just beginning to boil, but it didn't rise in temperature. Her fingers curled inward as she willed the little ball into growing. A soft light shone through the gaps between her knuckles.

She brought the tip of her poker to her left hand. The little fireball attached itself to the tip and shed through the air as Ember waved the poker around. She giggled in joy at the residue of beautiful fire being left behind by her poker. She drew random squiggles of pictures that illuminated the dark night like orange stars. She swirled the poker around in a small circle and felt something sweep under her feet, knocking her onto her back. However, her back didn't meet the ground. The air, warm and inviting, caught her instead.

She was floating.

And then she was flying.

Ember rocketed through the air, her eyes sparkling with elation. The stars, which seemed to be only a breath away, seemed to smile down at her encouragingly. She spiraled through the air, gaining speed aerodynamically. She almost didn't notice that she was beginning to feel lightheaded until she lost some speed. Dots of blue and green began to swim through her vision as she tumbled through the air, which only added to her dizziness.

She landed on the ground without a thud or pain of any kind. The impact of the fall evaporated, like she possessed no weight at all; like she was made of smoke, like she was fire, all on her own. With time, her strength returned, though her previous weakness didn't show in the death grip she had on the iron poker. Her knuckles were turning the faintest shade of white. She felt addicted to it. It was her life source, she knew. Without that poker, she sensed her powers would flee. And without her powers... What would happen to her without the fire that coursed through her body?

Ember journeyed the land tentatively with each progressing year, questions remaining unanswered in her mind. She discovered that she was a part of some strange group of magical beings who required belief to be seen. These magical beings involved Santa Claus, the Sandman, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, the groundhog of Groundhog Day, the Saint Patrick's Day Leprechaun, and several others. Ember found herself to be extremely lonely throughout the years, as no one ever believed in her and the other spirits were perpetually occupied with work. However, she slowly began to discover what part of her purpose was.

Ember soon discovered that she loved witnessing the happiness of others. When she saw tears on the face of a human, she would put a comforting hand on their shoulder or embrace them in spite of her knowledge that they couldn't see her. Strangely enough, they seemed to feel better when she sang the lullabies or said the consoling words they couldn't hear. She knew she had to respect certain periods of melancholy, such as funerals, so the world could remain in balance. After all, happiness wouldn't be nearly as enjoyable if pain didn't exist.

Centuries passed and Ember occupied herself with the knowledge of the generations. She witnessed Einstein as his curiosity grew and she watched Jigoro Kano as he invented a gentle way of self-defense. She grew to be quite intelligent and mature, remembering just about anything that she came across in the years of her immortal life.

The story begins at the North Pole.

...

North sat at his workshop table, pondering about whether or not to design a new, very simple toy, such as a doll or a classic wooden train. He wondered if the children of the world would appreciate such an idea; if they would accept this quaint toy. His belly wasn't telling him anything, so he was lost. Letting out a sigh of self-disappointment, he stood up from his chair and plucked an elaborately decorated sugar cookie- vanilla frosting and multiple colored sugar sprinkles- before sticking it into his mouth, savoring every sweet bite of the simple dessert. Without looking, he grabbed another cookie- this one being peanut butter and gracing North's hand at a cosmic size- and walked out of his office and into the workshop, where the yetis and elves worked.

"Tom! Those dolls are terrible! No one wants doll with black button eyes after _Coraline _came out!" North boomed at a working yeti, "And Jeff, what is with the ears on teddy bears? The name, teddy bear, implies that creature is a bear, not bunny."

"What's wrong with bunnies, mate?" a voice with an Australian accent asked from behind North, "I'm rather fond of 'em."

"Ah, Bunny, so good to see you!" North laughed, beaming as he embraced the tall rabbit.

"Alright, mate, no need ta shattah my uppa body," Bunny wheezed, North's strength dominating his bones. North released him, still smiling. "But it's good ta see ya, North."

"You, too!" North said cheerfully, "Can elves get you anything?"

"Ya mean are they capable? I don't think so," Bunny chuckled, "So, no, thank you. How've ya been doin'?"

"Oh, November is stressful month," North groaned, rubbing his giant hand on his forehead as he took a bite from his cookie.

"The Thanksgiving Turkey givin' you a bit a heck?" Bunny inquired, only slightly concerned.

"Yes," North sighed, chewing, "And-" He was interrupted by the squeal of a yeti. "Phil? What is wrong?" Phil squealed a series of unintelligible shrieks to the Guardian of Wonder, who seemed to understand. "New spirit? You are sure?" Phil nodded his furry head feverishly, and North turned to Bunny. "Looks like we have some friends to call, Bunnymund."

Bunny nodded, tapping his long foot against the wooden workshop floor. A giant tunnel hole appeared. "I'll go and get Sandy. Meet 'cha back 'ere." Without another word, he gracefully dropped himself into the tunnel, the hole of said tunnel closing and leaving a pink flower in its place the instant the rabbit's ears had left the immediate surface.

"That leaves Tooth, Jack, and new spirit to me," North sighed, turning around to see a pair of yetis holding a large red sack and a snow globe. North grinned. "You read my mind."

...

It was late into the night in Ireland, which was where Ember could be found. She'd been patrolling the beautiful, pastoral land in search of sadness, but most of the population was asleep, and those awake were happy. However, as she floated just above the cool pavement of the ground, she came across a poorly dressed, rather elderly man sitting on the ground, hunched over an infinitesimal bonfire that was on the verge of extinguishing. His eyes widened as the embers nearly died into the soot-coated wood, and his hands swept the ground for more matches, but he'd used all of the small sticks that he had.

Ember, feeling the frigid air more than anything else, crouched down in front of the dying fire and brought the tip of her poker to the scorched wood. The wood sparked and ignited, waves of orange and yellow climbing up the air as the old man was warmed. His eyes were elated, and his bony hands hovered over the flickering light. Ember smiled softly to herself, happiness swirling in her stomach. Looking at the stomach of the man before her, she saw that he was emaciated. She darted to her feet and flew to a sandwich shop. Its door was locked, of course, so Ember pulled a Saint Nick and entered through the chimney, the rectangular tunnel of bricks leading her to the oven where the workers made bread. She climbed out and shook herself clean, as she was covered in ash.

The fire spirit took a loaf of bread from the shelf, cut two thick pieces from it, and piled one of the pieces high with anything she could find- lettuce, ham, cheese- until the sandwich appeared rather large. Feeling satisfied, she put the sandwich on a paper plate, tucked her poker under her arm, and opened the door of the shop, knowing that it would lock from the inside when it closed. She carried the sandwich gingerly over to the old man, whose attention was directed to the fire before him. Ember gently and quietly set the sandwich down beside the man. The man's eyes widened in shock as he stared at the food to his side. The man looked around for the person who had given him the gift, but the one who had given it remained invisible to him.

Ember smiled, stood up, and began to walk away. She twirled her poker in her hand and floated playfully for a few seconds before returning to the ground. All of a sudden, a feeling of unnatural fear and alarm pricked her senses. She searched the streets and houses for the source of this feeling, and her eyes were fixated upon a very small house, just large enough for a tiny kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom. A woman, who looked to be somewhere around the age of nineteen, was inside. Ember peered into the house from one of the thin windows and saw the woman pick up a small girl on the inside. The girl couldn't have been any older than two. The woman was obviously the mother of this child, and much too poor to have someone look after her. The possible eviction and lack of finances for utilities and food were closing in on the woman and causing an inundation of stress.

The fire spirit made to enter the house from the window, but was stopped by an enormous, furry hand gripping the collar of her dress and lifting her effortlessly into the air. Ember yelped, her hands clawing at the mass of fur behind her neck and her feet kicking around aimlessly. In the flurry, she'd dropped her poker, and now she was panicking.

"Whoa, hey!" Ember shouted as she was stuffed into a large red sack, which rather lacked breathing air. Ember didn't do well in spaces in which there was too little or too much oxygen. After all, fire needs oxygen in order to stay ablaze. "Let me out!" Instead of following her demand, her captor threw her into the air, but the torment didn't stop there. Instead, Ember was met by a tumbling, spinning motion that was enough to make her nauseous. She, of course, as a spirit, couldn't become nauseous.

Soon, Ember and the bag in which she was being kept prisoner met the ground, a hard mass of wood. Ember felt around the area with her hands, burning the red material that was trapping her. She lost more and more oxygen, but relief met her as the sack was opened by a pair of... elves?

Where _was_ she?

Ember's eyes scanned the room as her head popped out of the bag, relaxing when her previously fleeing warmth returned to her body. She saw giant yetis and tiny elves, as well as a group of people. As her eyes focused, Ember realized that standing before her were the Guardians: Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Sandman, the Tooth Fairy, and Jack Frost.

"Ah, welcome!" said the ever-towering and muscular North. His bright blue eyes were filled with jolliness as Ember stood up and grabbed her poker, which had been shoved into the bag along with her. "You must be new spirit!"

"'New'?" Ember repeated. At her age, she considered herself to be anything but new.

"Well, we may be a little late, sorry!" said Tooth, who circled around Ember in the air, taking in her appearance. Tooth was very beautiful, herself, having those big, purple eyes and being covered in colorful, peacock-like feathers. "Oh! I hope you don't mind my asking, but may I please see your teeth?" She looked rather eager and jittery, cocking her head in curiosity and her hands clasped against her bright green chest.

"Huh?" Ember muttered, confused. As soon as her mouth was open, Tooth's nimble fingers dove in, expanding Ember's lips and rubbing along her gums. Ember grunted in discomfort.

"Oh, wow!" Tooth exclaimed, "They're pretty white! I wasn't expecting them to be that white!" She was confusing Ember with the speed at which she enthusiastically spoke. "They're like a picket fence! My goodness, look at those canines! I haven't seen canines as sharp as those since-"

"Tooth, leave teeth alone," North said, though he smiled as he said it. Tooth followed his orders and flew over to Bunny, who was fiddling with one of his boomerangs. North lumbered over to Ember and put his hands on his hips, intimidating the girl slightly. "Now, then, your name is...?"

"Ember," she finished for him, surprisingly not quietly. He was even larger up close. This didn't come as a shock to her, but it was still a bit scary.

"Well then, Ember, on behalf of the Guardians, I wish to welcome you as a new spirit!" North announced, holding his arms up grandly, "You may be confused; we all were when we were first chosen. However, I believe that soon, you will be able to master full control of your powers, as well as find out what you are meant to do as a spirit. As for your-"

But Ember stopped him short. She'd heard enough. "What do you mean? I've already mastered my powers." She somewhat doubted that she'd mastered them, but she wasn't completely lost on how to use them.

"Oh, come on," Bunny piped up, "You may think you're a big shot and all, but you can't have mastered your powers in however long you've been alive. How long's it been, anyway? A few days? Maybe a couple a weeks?"

"You're a bit late, you guys," Ember said, insulted by Bunny's remark. Everyone, including her, had looks of confusion on there faces. Sandy formed a question mark above his head.

"What's it been, huh?" Jack asked. His voice was husky, and there was an annoyed, somewhat tired emotion in his silvery blue eyes. "A few months? A year, at most?"

"I'm six hundred and thirty-four years old," Ember informed them.

Jaws dropped.

"That's twice my age!" Jack cried, "How is this even possible?"

"How could we have missed you for so long?" Tooth asked herself, putting a petite hand to her chest. She turned to Ember, her eyes wide. "Are you sure you've been alive for that long?"

"Well, judging by my appearance, I think I was around fourteen when I died," Ember thought aloud, "And by my calculations, yes, I'm really that old. When I was chosen, people still had the plague."

"But _how _could you have possibly been... under radar, for lack of better term, for so long?" North asked, rubbing his wrinkly forehead with his large, beefy fingers.

"Maybe it's because her powers are so weak and what she does isn't very important," Jack said under his breath and laughed softly, only to be heard by everyone in the room. Sandy shoved him scoldingly, an angrily disappointed look on his golden face. Ember's smoky eyes narrowed at Jack, anger igniting within her. She flicked the wrist of the hand that was holding the poker, and a flurry of iridescent orange and yellow flecks scattered toward Jack, who leapt backwards when the tiny flames landed near his bare feet. When the sparks died, Jack shot a glare at Ember that was as cold as the blizzards he created every day.

"Watch the fire, hothead," Jack warned poisonously.

"Watch the mouth, snowman," Ember shot back, though her eyes returned to their normal state as she spoke.

"Alright, you two, calm down," Tooth said, hovering between Jack and Ember so the fighting would stop. Jack and Ember eventually let their tempers cool, but the glaring at one another never ceased.

Feeling awkward, Sandy drifted over to Ember and formed a globe and a question mark out of sand above his head. Ember stared at him questioningly.

"He asks if you know what purpose is," North explained before the girl could inquire, "What is it that you put into the world?"

"Uh... Fire?" Ember said, waving the end of her poker so a translucent ribbon of sunset orange was left in its tracks. She saw Jack roll his eyes, but she suppressed the urge to throw a flame arrow at him.

"No, no, no, no, no," North protested, shaking his large hands, "I'm talking about what you do as a spirit. What reflects you as a whole? What do you place into the hearts of children around the world? This, your center, is what makes you special."

"Oh, she's special, alright, but I don't think it has anything to do with her center," Jack remarked, smirking and sitting on a banister.

"Jack, cut it out," Bunny intervened. Jack's smirk still played on his lips.

"No, he's right," Ember defended, "After all, I only comfort children when they're upset and give them a sense of safety when they feel unprotected."

"Unprotected?" Jack repeated, sliding off of the banister and swinging his staff around in his hands, "I can name a few people who felt unprotected. The workers at the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory. I believe it was... one hundred and forty-six people who died, wasn't it? The youngest victim no older than sixteen. All dead from a fire."

That statement tore a hole through Ember's chest, and her eyes widened. She'd felt horrible when the fire of the factory had occured. She still felt somewhat guilty. But she wouldn't let Jack have that satisfaction. "What about the Titanic, Frosty? It was, hm... One thousand five hundred and seventeen people who died, I believe. Shame, huh? All those people dead because of an iceberg."

Jack's teeth were gritted, and he started towards Ember, his expression dangerous. "Almost as tragic as-"

"That's quite enough, you two!" Tooth boomed, her knuckles on her hips, "You have your differences, but I do not condone you using the tragedies you both caused against each other! The subject of death should not be used in some petty argument!"

Ember was slightly taken aback. Shame set in, and she found herself staring at the ground for a few seconds. She agreed; it was wrong to try and make Jack feel bad by mentioning the deaths he'd caused. It was best to avoid a subject as delicate as that. There was silence for a few moments, and it seemed as if a telepathic apology had been transferred between Jack and Ember. It was obvious that they still weren't fond of each other, though.

"Alright, Ember, how about you take walk with me?" North suggested, "Rest of you may tend to your duties." There were a few snickers that passed between the elves. North sighed. "Yes, I said duty." The elves were now drowning in their own laughter. North put a hand on Ember's back and led her into the workshop. All around, yetis were making toys that looked to be replicas of ice models that North must have made. It was surprising that these gigantic creatures could perform such delicate work. North's enormous, boot-protected feet made large clomps against the hardwood floors as the pair entered his office, but Ember didn't make a sound. She gazed around the large room and jumped when North slammed the heavy, wooden door shut and locked it.

**...**

**I know it's not a very good place to end the chapter, but it's already SO LONG! Thank you very much for reading the first chapter of my story! I was going to take a break from writing a story for a while, but I have so many other stories that I want to do, so I have to get this one done. Please leave a review! Reviews make my day!**


	2. A Beautiful Little Fool

**Good to see you, again!**

**Honeydewmelon56: You're welcome for the story, and thank you for the review!**

**yourestupidish01: Oh, wow, if this is potentially going to be your favorite fire and ice story, then I need to buckle down! Thank you so much for your review!**

**TenebrisSagittarius: Well, here I am, and just a little while away is Ember! Thanks for your review!**

* * *

Immediately, Ember's trepidation exacerbated. A lot had happened within the last five minutes, including an invasion of personal oral space and an... argument with Jack Frost. She felt a sudden chill sprinkle down her spine at the thought of their blame-game. Fire and ice had been the causes of too many fatalities, and she couldn't bring herself to forget having mentioned the Titanic. She wondered if Jack felt bad about mentioning the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory.

"So, Ember," North's voice broke through Ember's thoughts, "Tell me about yourself."

"Er... I don't know what you mean." Her own Irish accent sounded weird after having heard North's Russian one and Bunny's Australian one. The Guardians made up a rather mixed group.

"I am talking about your current self, and your past self," North explained patiently. "Who were you then, who are you now?"

"My past self?" Ember repeated, her eyebrows furrowing. Was North talking about when she first awoke? She wasn't very different from _that_ version of herself. Sure, she was a fair bit older and wiser, and less lonely considering that the other spirits could now see her, but she was still confused. She still didn't know the answer to her question about the reason why she was here. The Man in the Moon hadn't said anything to her since saying her name.

"Your human self," said North, looking her over as if imagining her previous form. "The person you were before you became Ember. You do not remember?"

"I couldn't have been anyone before... this," Ember protested, gesturing to herself, "I've never been anything else but a spirit." She waved her poker in a circle as if to emphasize her point, a rivulet of marigold orange trailing the iron tip's path.

"But you _were_ someone else," North contradicted. He was about to say that this lack of memory was a trait that Ember shared with Jack, but after watching the pair of opposite spirits fight, he realized that this statement would not be appreciated. And North was sure that he wouldn't appreciate Ember's reaction to said statement, considering that she'd apparently been an immortal for several centuries. Six hundred and twenty years was more than enough time to get a handle on one's powers. Ember certainly seemed smart enough to accomplish such a feat in much less time.

"How?" asked the girl, "How could I be someone else, someone I don't remember?" She doubted the importance of this supposed past self of hers. How significant could she have been if she couldn't even remember herself?

"Do you know, Ember, how spirits come to be?" North asked softly, looking at her in her frustrated grey eyes. Ember shook her head, her charcoal tresses swinging across her shoulders. "All spirits begin as humans. The rest of Guardians and I were humans once. But some humans, when they die, are chosen by Man in Moon to become spirits."

"What makes us so special?" Ember asked, trying to swallow her uneasiness at the idea of herself, even her past self, dying. "Why does the Man in the Moon choose us?"

"Because the job of spirits, Guardians especially, is to protect children of the world," North explained, "Every spirit sacrificed themselves for a child of some sort. That is how Manny knows we are worth a second life." He smiled warmly down at her. "That is how I know already that you are very brave."

The fire spirit blushed, averting her eyes from the Guardian of Wonder. She didn't know how true this was, seeing as how she'd never been in a situation in which she needed to be brave.

"Is there any way that I can find out who I was?" Her eyes showed desperation and curiosity.

North nodded. "Tooth is Guardian of Memories. The teeth she and other fairies collect hold childhood memories. Perhaps she has yours. You could get your teeth from her and look at your memories."

* * *

Ember followed North's instructions and flew to the Tooth Palace, ever-careful not to fly too fast. When she reached the Palace, she was immediately swarmed by Baby Teeth, Tooth's miniature fairies who assisted in her teeth-collecting. They naturally wanted to see her teeth, but Ember didn't open her mouth in fear of swallowing an overeager fairy who wanted an extra-close look at her "picket-fence-white" teeth. So they had to settle with chasing one another in her hair, getting tangled up very quickly and causing discomfort for everyone.

"Ladies!" Tooth barked, having appeared seemingly from nowhere. Her nimble fingers swept through Ember's hair, picking out her tiny followers with ease. She gave Ember an embarrassed smile after finishing up. "So sorry about them. They get a _wee_ bit excited, sometimes. Especially since you're another girl! The rest of the Guardians are boys. Ooh! Speaking of, have you, uh, cooled down since your little tiff with Jack?"

Ember was a little lightheaded just from trying to keep up with what Tooth was saying. Either that or she'd flown too fast.

"Er, yeah," Ember said, her voice quiet and hoarse. She cleared her throat. "Yeah, I'm okay, now."

"That's great!" Tooth exclaimed, appearing genuinely excited. She clasped her hands against her feathery chest in joy. "Jack was a little upset, but he'll get over it. I doubt you and he will share a rivalry as strong as his and Bunny's."

Ember awkwardly rubbed the nape of her neck with the palm of her hand. "I, um, I don't..."

Tooth's eyes widened, as if reading Ember's mind. "Of course. I'm sure you didn't come here to talk about Jack." She floated with her stomach facing the ground and her head in her hands. "So, what's up?"

"Listen, North told me that you might have my memories," Ember explained, "So, I was wondering if-"

"Oh, look, here they are," Tooth interrupted, holding a golden half cylinder in her hands. "Thank you, ladies!" she said to the fairies. She looked at Ember again, holding out the case to her. "These are your baby teeth, your memories. You can only look at them when you really need to. But when you do, all you have to do is touch the flat side, and all of your memories will come back to you."

Ember tentatively took the case from her, its cool, smooth surface making it feel fragile in her dry hand. Sleeping inside this little canister were the answers to the questions she'd been asking since she'd first awoken. With a single touch, she could possess those answers. But she didn't particularly _need_ to, right now.

"Thank you, Tooth," Ember said gratefully, smiling at the fairy.

"Anytime, sweetie," Tooth replied happily. She landed on the ground and held her small arms open. It took a moment for Ember to realize that Tooth intended to hug her. At first, she hesitated, but then every consoling hug she'd ever given helped boost her confidence and she entered Tooth's arms for a warm embrace. It felt nice- _very_ nice- to hug someone who could hug her back.

"Bye, Tooth," she said upon exiting her arms, "Thanks again."

"Absolutely. Bye!"

* * *

Ember hadn't thought about her memories in hours. She'd been busy flying around the world, comforting children who didn't have anyone else, or at least felt that they had no one else. Although, having to put down her poker and memory case so she could stroke someone's hair or properly hug someone else proved to be rather awkward. But the children didn't seem to care, especially since they couldn't actually see her, so she didn't mind that much. Luckily, since the defeat of Pitch Black, children were having considerably fewer nightmares. It definitely took a load of stress off. When fear consumed the world and nobody but Jamie Bennett believed in the Guardians, Ember was under enough stress that would give a grown human man a heart attack.

She stopped in a forest, careful not to touch any trees for neurotic fear that they would all burst into flames. She sat on the ground, pine needles remaining silent under her vaporous weight. The poker and the golden case were beginning to make her palms cramp up, so Ember set them on the ground in front of her, never tearing her eyes from them for a second.

Her conversation with North swam around in her mind, and she scoffed to herself. She'd definitely overdone the naïve, stupid façade. She hadn't seen any otherway to get answers than to act like she didn't know anything. She wasn't quite sure if North had bought the entire thing, but she knew her tactic had been better than acting like the nuisance she was and then demanding her memories from Tooth.

_I hope she'll be a fool- that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool..._

Boy, oh boy, did F. Scott Fitzgerald know what he was talking about.

Heck, she'd mentioned the death of her past self in a conversation that had taken place mere minutes before the one between her and North. She was six hundred and thirty-four years old, for crying out loud! What did the Guardians think she did all those years? Mosey around and play with fire? No. She observed and learned. She knew why and how spirits were selected. She was around when Jackson Overland became Jack Frost.

Ember got a strange, sick feeling in her stomach when she thought of Jack. Yes, she hated him, as she was probably meant to, but she couldn't help but respect him. Jackson Overland had been one of the greatest brothers she'd ever seen. That day on the frozen water, Jack had only thought of his sister, his ultimate concern. His only desire had been to see her safe.

But that Jack was lost when he was around Ember. She knew it, because she'd been expecting it. She watched him as a spirit, flying around without a care in the world, snowballs and fun times now his priority. Whereas she was constantly tripping over herself, fretting, fussing, worrying... She was the definition of neurotic. Ember rolled her eyes. Even with an occupation of protecting the children of the world, she still miraculously found time to pity herself. Hallelujah.

The pity party didn't last long, though, for Ember soon felt a familiar chill tumbling down her spine, one that was personalized just for a certain winter spirit.

Quick as lightning, Ember snatched up her poker in one hand and the golden case in the other, prepared to defend herself.

"Well, lookie here," Jack's voice came up from behind Ember, who swung around to face him, "Could this be the mighty fire spirit?" He bore a sly smile as he leaned against his staff.

"What do you want?" Ember spat, wielding the poker threateningly.

"Easy, hothead," Jack said defensively, "I just want to know what kind of game it is you're playing." He narrowed his eyes, suddenly hostile.

"Game?"

"Yes." Jack matched Ember's stance, his staff raised to a threatening level. "First, you show up claiming you've been around for over six centuries despite never being seen by anyone, including the spirits. Next, you get all... hothead-y, for serious lack of a better term. Then, North drags you to his office and you act like you've never visited planet Earth. What gives?"

Ember knew exactly what gave. First, she _was_ over six centuries old, and that wasn't just the loneliness talking. Next, she was hothead-y because Jack had started it first, as infantile as it sounded. Then, well... Ember knew that if she were to become close to the Guardians, it was probably better for them to underestimate her so she wouldn't disappoint them. Besides, she'd never talked to anyone before them. She didn't know how to be herself.

But, of course, she didn't dare say any of this to Jack because it made her sound immature and insecure. And while she was the latter of those two things, she certainly didn't want that information to be possessed by her current archnemesis (melodrama totally intended).

"I'm not playing any games. I just wanted my memories." Ember held out the golden case to validate her point, though she kept a vice grip on it. "Tooth couldn't see me, before, so I couldn't have asked her."

"Yeah?" Jack said, obviously not buying her story, "And how in Moon's name does a spirit remain invisible to other spirits for the duration of six hundred years?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Ember returned, "But you'd know better than the rest of the Guardians about being invisible."

She felt somewhat satisfied when she saw Jack's face drop a bit, and she wasn't surprised when he threw a bolt of cold energy from his staff at her. She easily dodged it and threw a flash of hot orange and yellow back at Jack, who froze it.

Ember expected the fight to go on like this for a while, but Jack apparently had a plan. Before Ember could even think about her next attack, Jack hit her with a snowball, distracting her momentarily. Then, he rushed up to her, grabbed her by her underarms, and hoisted her into the air.

"What- What are you doing?!" she demanded as he froze her upside-down to a tree branch, a cone of ice covering her from her waist down. "Jack!"

"I'm just having a little fun," Jack replied innocently. A cocky grin graced his features as he watched her struggle.

"Jack, th-this isn't f-funny!" Ember stammered from the cold, trying to curl upward so she could melt the ice that trapped her lower body. She was surprised that Jack hadn't simply frozen her feet and let her dress fall over her head. Then again, Jack was from the seventeenth century and used to have a younger sister, so Ember supposed that his chivalrousness trumped his hatred for her. Besides, mean-spirited tendencies didn't make a person evil. Or perverted.

The fire spirit felt her energy quickly begin to drain. She couldn't become lightheaded from the blood rushing to her head, but the ice was stealing her warmth. She tried to generate some heat so the ice would melt, but there was hardly enough heat to keep her warm.

"Let me g-go," Ember commanded stubbornly, her teeth chattering loud enough to wake the dead. Jack only smirked. "Is th-this f-funny to you, Jack?!" She was nervous, before. Now, she was angry. "I've got k-kids to c-comfort." Indeed, she was being attacked by all kinds of negative feelings radiating from children around the world.

"Come on," Jack groaned, as if he didn't believe her, "That's really your purpose? You comfort children? How does that even work if no one can see you?"

"H-how sh-should I know?" Ember snapped, her smoky grey eyes burning into Jack's icy blue ones.

Jack didn't answer. But Ember slowly felt her eyes begin to droop, and her grips on the poker and the golden case began to weaken. Jack saw this and immediately snatched the items from Ember's hands, ignoring her soft protests. He tucked the case into his pocket while also testing the balance of the iron fire tool.

"Not so powerful without this, are you?" Jack teased, waving the poker around.

"L-like you could l-live without your s-staff," Ember shot back, her last bit of consciousness fleeing from her. She passed out, her arms hanging numbly by her head.

Jack wasn't as calm as he thought he'd be when he saw Ember pass out. He didn't really mean to hurt her; he was just skeptical about her intentions. She didn't seem sure about anything she said. One minute, she was a genius. The next minute, she was an imbecile. Confident to insecure, mature to infantile, strong to weak. It didn't seem severe enough to be split personalities, but he still wondered. But even with his suspicions, Jack couldn't just leave her there. So, he unfroze Ember and gingerly caught her motionless body in his arms. She was very light, like smoke, and easy to carry. He set her down on the ground, and after a bit of consideration, he took her hand and curled her fingers around the handle of the poker. Jack felt that Ember seemed to worry enough as it was. If she didn't wake up with her poker, she'd probably have a heart attack.

Jack kept the golden case, though. He'd sort of forgotten that he had it. As he walked away, his inner self spoke to him.

_You know, it's said that when a boy is mean to a girl he just met, it means he likes her,_ he thought to himself.

"Shut up," Jack murmured as he flew up into the sky, "I don't like her. She's dumb and immature and weak-"

_And pretty._

Jack sighed in frustration. It was true. Ember was very pretty. That was the thought that had struck him when he'd first seen her.

"Looks can be deceiving," he huffed. This was also true. He'd expected Ember, as a fire spirit, to be bold and loud, for her to just radiate overconfidence. But no, she was pretty quiet and seemed almost insecure. She had a temper, but it wasn't untameable and she didn't let it control her. It was about as bad as Jack's was.

He expelled all thoughts of her from his head and continued flying. Soon, his mind was occupied with fun images of snowballs and laughing children. Now, the real fun began.

* * *

It didn't take long for Ember to wake up. She was surprised when she found her poker in her hand, wondering if and why Jack had left it for her. But she began to panic when she realized that her memory case was nowhere to be found.

Ember slung a gigantic flame at a patch of boulders in rage, doing no real harm to said boulders. This was personal! Jack had taken her memories! And for what, exactly? Some sort of cruel joke? They would've told her who she'd been, before! And now her possession of that information depended on Jack's disposition toward her.

"I'm toast," she sighed, running a hand through her wild hair. The rest of the spirits had _their_ memories. Why couldn't she have hers? She slammed the end of her poker against the ground, sending tiny sparks scattering everywhere. "It's not _fair_!" she shouted at the wind. She'd been alone for her entire life, and didn't even remember part of it. Sure, fourteen years didn't seem like much in comparison to the total of six hundred and thirty-four, but in those fourteen years, Ember could have had a home, a family, a life. She loved her job, she really did, but there was a part of her that was missing, that she couldn't get back no matter how hard she tried.

"Ember, get a hold of yourself," she scolded, having developed a habit of talking to herself over the years, "Jack let you go so you could comfort some kids. Now, go comfort some kids."

* * *

Jack flew over Burgess, admiring his work. He'd left a satisfactory blanket of snow in which Jamie and his friends would be happy to have a snowball fight. He could hardly wait for the morning to come so he could join them.

He couldn't get playing with Jamie off his mind, and found himself gravitating toward the Bennett house. Maybe Jamie would be up for a late-night sled ride? Or maybe just a conversation? Jack felt a bit lonely.

Before he could get quite close enough to Jamie's house, he saw a figure in the darkness. The person flew up to the window of Jamie's room, the same window Jack had entered through on the night that he'd gotten his first believer. He squinted his eyes and flew in closer so he could see the person more clearly, and widened his eyes when he saw a black dress with orange flame designs shimmering in the moonlight.

He watched Ember climb through the window and into Jamie's room. He suddenly felt a surge of protective anger; he wasn't going to let Ember near Jamie on his watch! The whole "comforting children" thing could be a complete lie. For all he knew, she could be working for Pitch! Jack's heart raced at the idea of Pitch coming back, especially with Ember's assistance.

_Why do you care if Ember is helping Pitch?_ his inner thoughts demanded. _Why do you care if Ember is good or bad?_

"I don't," Jack hissed, "I don't care if she's good or evil. I just want to make sure Pitch never comes back." He plastered himself onto the outer wall, right next to Jamie's window. His head peered around so he could see into Jamie's room, and what he saw surprised him.

* * *

**Apologies for:**

**1) the general boringness of the beginning of this chapter. Or the entire chapter, depending on your opinion.**

**2) not mentioning in the first chapter that Ember is Irish.**

**3) anything Ember says that is quite noticeably un-Irish. I'm American.**

**Also, in case of any confusion about the six hundred and twenty years thing: Ember was fourteen when she died, but has been an immortal for six hundred and twenty years. So in total, she's six hundred and thirty-four years old.**

**ALSO, I'm going to be away in a while because I have finals coming up. Yippee. Maybe a review will cheer me up?**


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